


Instant Messaging III 7/8: Hair of the Dog

by TheSaddleman



Series: Instant Messaging [6]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Humour, Nutella, Psychic Paper, whouffaldi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:27:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9467330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaddleman/pseuds/TheSaddleman
Summary: Clara instant messages the Doctor using her psychic paper, and finds him in a bumfuzzled state of mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> After my previous story landed with a deafening thud, I thought I'd redeem myself with this little bit of fluff that has been written as part of a prompt/fanfic challenge from [Legends Like Stardust](https://legendslikestardust.tumblr.com/), a Tumblr dedicated to promoting "smut-free" Doctor Who fanworks. 
> 
> The challenge was to write a humour story that at some point incorporates the words "feathers", "bumfuzzle" and "Nutella". Since the entire Instant Messaging series was inspired by my discovery of the word "booplesnoot", I thought it was appropriate to add my 2 cents for "bumfuzzle".

Good morning, Doctor!

Hello? Doctor Doctor Doctor Doctor!

Pick up your paper, it’s me!

     _Clara?_

     _Wha’time’sit?_

     _M’sleep._

Since when do you sleep?

You never sleep.

Are you OK?

     _Ma head hurts._

     _Tryin’ ta use the psychic paper._

     _Tryin’ ta think but nothin’ happens._

     _Why can’t you phone?_

I like the psychic paper thing better.

No eavesdropping.

Well, except Strax that one time.

Forget I said eavesdropping.

Are you hungover?

Seriously? You?

Even the letters on this psychic paper look fuzzy.

     _Not drunk._

     _Bumfuzzle. Bumfuzzled._

     _Bumfuz… that._

Sounds painful.

Is there a place Time Lords go 

to get that checked out?

     _Ha, ha, Clara._

     _OK._

     _Brain is slowly un-bumfuzzling._

Why were you ...

... bumfuzzled? ...

to begin with?

(Wow, that word sounds like a

thermals malfunction.)

     _Nutella._

     _Evil Nutella._

Evil Nutella?

Oh no, you haven’t 

made another arch enemy, have you?

Seriously, I keep telling you:

Enemies are not stamps or dolls.

You can’t keep collecting them.

It’s on prompt card #21, remember?

     _No, no, I mean the, you know…_

     _Nutella._

     _Stuff you put on crackers._

     _Evil Nutella._

Oh, that Nutella.

Sorry. Just kinda sounded like

a Doctor-enemy name.

Your bad guys are never called Joe

or Bill

or Jenny.

     _There’s always Missy._

Missy’s borderline. It’s still Mistress.

     _Yeah, but her real name is Hank._

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

_Cough! Cough!_

Sorry, just snorted tea up my nose.

You serious?

     _No, but I made you laugh!_

     _Helps me to unfuzz myself._

I’ll get you back one of these days!

So what does Nutella

have to do with you think-messaging like

you just came off a bender?

While making lame jokes.

Why is it evil?

     _Dunno, really._

     _Tried some. Liked it._

     _Ate more._

     _After Cracker #12, my mouth_

     _started to taste of feathers._

     _Then I fell asleep._

     _Has to be evil._

Only you could get blitzed

on hazelnut spread.

     _Is tha’ what it is, Clara?_

     _No wonder s’evil._

     _Hazelnut is like catnip to Time Lords._

     _Except it doesn’t make us_

     _roll around on the floor._

     _Much._

     _And Nutella is addictive!_

I could have told you that.

My gran banned me from having any

when I was a kid.

Because I believed it was a food group.

Still do.

     _So why are you messaging anyway?_

Does there have to be a reason?

     _You can message me anytime._

     _Want me to come by?_

     _We can finish binge-watching_

     _Danger Man._

Depends. Are you still going to be

all bumfuzzled and feather-mouthed

and more Scottishy than usual?

     _I’ll be fine._

     _Scout’s honour._

You were never a …

Never mind. You probably

created the Scouts.

     _Contrary to what you might think_

     _I didn’t create everything Clara._

So not the Scouts then.

     _OK, so I suggested the DIB DIB DIB bit_

     _for the Cubs._

     _I’d just been to see Sha Na Na at Woodstock._

     _And ‘Get a Job’ got stuck in my head, so…_

I get the picture.

     _M’hungry._

Come on over. I have just the thing.

     _What do you have in mind?_

     _You finally get a soufflé to survive?_

Yeah, good luck with that.

No, what do you think?

Hair of the dog.

Or, in your case,

feathers of the chicken.

     _No…_

     _You don’t mean…_

I’ve filled two shelves with the stuff.

Had a special on at Tesco’s.

Let’s get bumfuzzled together

as we spend a night in

watching ’60s spy-fi.

     _You’re insane!_

     _Why would I even consider..._

     _More Nutella?_

     _I mean, really ..._

     _I’m shocked you’ve even suggest it._

     _I could end up asleep on your lap!_

So I take it that’s a yes.

     _I’ll bring milk._

     _And a pillow._


End file.
